


One More Time With Feeling

by westernbirds



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bickering, Cute, Friends to Lovers, High School, M/M, Movie Night, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-07 23:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westernbirds/pseuds/westernbirds
Summary: Eddie knew that some of his frustrations couldn't be sorted by a clear explanation, and this one was especially bothersome. But I don't hate Richie, He thought. Not one bit.At times like these, he wished he still had his inhaler.Based off: One More Time With Feeling by Regina Spektor





	One More Time With Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> [part 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20692319)   
[part 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809820)

_Hold on _

_One more time with feeling _

_Try it again, breathing's just a rhythm _

_Say it in your mind, until you know that the _

_Words are right _

_This is why we fight _

_This is why we fight _

//

A delicate afternoon sun was pouring into the Kaspbrak's kitchen window onto a teenaged boy washing dishes. The bright sun was one of the only pleasant things on Eddie's lonely Sundays, along with his mother being out at her book club meeting that until later in the evening. When he was home alone, Eddie set up a small radio (courtesy of the Losers, gifted to him at his birthday party this year) and hummed along to the music, sometimes accompanied by some dancing and head-bobs. Eddie was completely lost within the words of Bowie when his heart nearly leapt out of his chest at a pitched sound.

** _BRRRING BRRRING_ **

Eddie swore colourfully then sighed. _It's just the phone, idiot._ He pulled the yellow gloves off and ran to it.

"Hello, Kaspbrak residence, this is Edward speaking"

"_Edward!_" The voice said with a snort on the other line. "_Very formal, very classy. Does your mom have a script made up for you answering phone calls?_"

Eddie's face became incredibly hot. "Shut up, you already know that, asshole." He flinched at his voice crack on 'asshole.' "What's up?"

"_I'm so bored. Booored. Would you please come and entertain me?_" Richie whined.

He sighed. "I don't know dude, I have a lot of chores."

"_Just set all the trash on fire and get over here; oh, and yeah, my parents are out tonight. I rented a movie for us to watch. Pretty romantic, eh Eddie-bear?_"

Eddie's stomach did a flip-flop. His friends' voice had smoothly dropped down recently, in opposition to his height. He could picture Richie's stupid eyebrows wagging, under his stupid, thick, wavy hair, daring Eddie to react.

"Stop teasing me, you're so embarrassing."

Richie chuckled. "_There's no one listening to our call so what is there to be embarrassed about?_"

"Ugh! Okay, I'll be over in an hour." Eddie hung up abruptly.

He stood in front of the phone for a moment, thinking; _Are we normal? Is this normal?_ This question commonly crossed his mind as Eddie pondered the nature of his and Richie Tozier's friendship. Richie's teasing wouldn't happen so commonly at school. He only aimed affectionate phrases at his friend if they were in the presence of the rest of the Losers, or alone. When they were alone, Eddie felt that the teasing was different. It had gradually become more flirtatious. It's ridiculous, Eddie knew, since he was obviously flirting, but it bothered him that Richie only did it because of the reaction he got out of the shorter boy.

_Because I don't like it,_ Eddie told himself, _I hate it._ Eddie knew that some of his frustrations couldn't be sorted by a clear explanation, and this one was especially bothersome._ But I don't hate Richie, _he thought._ Not one bit. _

At times like these, he wished he still had his inhaler.

//

Richie flopped back on his bed, fidgeting with a colourful three-by-three cube in his hand. He had done a quick Eddie-approved clean up after he got off the phone with said friend. No crumbs on the bed or dishes on the floor, and not a pair of dirty underwear in sight. He had sat through church with his parents, went for a bike ride, then a short walk to pick up a rental of _Back to the Future Part II._

Richie realized he had a hard time sitting through movies on his own. His commentary just couldn't be wasted on an empty room, so naturally, he called his good old pal Eds. No matter what Eddie said in retort, or how much he complained about the taller boy talking through a whole movie, Richie enjoyed the company. They both enjoyed each other’s.

Richie placed the solved cube back on his bedside table and sighed. Eddie was a bit on-edge as of late, and Richie assumed it was a puberty thing. He had decided to follow through with Bill's advice of talking with Eddie. Real, _mature_ talking. They don't talk much, about their families or their feelings, despite how close the two are. Richie didn't always enjoy the constant teasing between them, emphasis on constant. He went a bit too far sometimes, and found himself using better pick-up lines on his best friend than his female upper-classmates who worked at the local supermarket...

** _KNOCK KNOCK _ **

Richie flinched and jumped off the bed, basically slipped all the way down the stairs, and opened the door to see his smiling friend.

"If it isn’t the man himself, in the flesh! Wazzup, Eds." Rich leaned against the door frame.

"You already know what's up." The short brunet’s smile vanished. _Shame_.

"I'm just being conversational. Come in, young boy, I say, come in."

"Thanks." Eddie shuffled his sneakers off.

"Sooo... popcorn?" Richie knew Eddie wasn't treated to the snack often.

"Yes please." Eddie said enthusiastically, and walked into the Tozier's kitchen to (Richie guessed) wash his hands thoroughly. Richie followed closely behind.

He was right.

"Make sure you don't burn the popcorn, Rich, I know you suck ass at cooking." Eddie teased, drying his hands then grabbing a pink can from the fridge. "You could probably burn cereal."

"It is true, I suck many asses. And don't loose faith; if your tiny brain can remember, I made all you guys cookies once." Richie put the bag in the microwave.

"With the help of Stan and Beverly, if I can recall correctly." Eddie sat on a kitchen chair and cracked his cream soda open, taking a long sip. "and that would be baking, by the way."

"Shaddup." Richie said lightly.

"Ugh, I can't wait to get a job. Then I could afford to have a whole stash of snack food hidden under my bed." Eddie sighed.

"You'd better count your calories. Y'don't want to become a beached whale like your mother, do ya Eds?" Richie smirked and grabbed himself a coke.

Eddie scoffed and frowned. "Of course not, idiot."

"You'd share your snacks with me, right? Pay me back for all the shit I let you eat at my place."

"Of course." Eddie smiled. _There it is_.

"Aw, you love me."

"Shut up." Eddie took another sip, his cheeks matching the can.

"All you ever say to me lately is 'shut up'." Richie laughed.

"Because all that comes out of your mouth is garbage, you big dummy."

"Ouch, that was very elementary Eddie, took me way back. Got a better insult?"

"Yeah, how about... fuck you." His voice cracked on 'about', and this caused Richie to laugh harder.

"I can't help it!" Eddie said in frustration.

"I know, that's what makes it so cute." Richie moved forward and ruffled his sitting friends' hair, massaging his head at the top.

He saw Eddie shiver violently, his eyes go wide and his face an even darker shade of red than before.

_ **BEEP BEEP BEEP ** _

"...that call is for me." Richie said stupidly, opening the door to the mic and grabbing the hot bag.

"Ow!” He immediately tried opening it, then dropped it. “Ouch.”

"You can't just grab it like that, oh my God!" Eddie stood up and grabbed it off the floor from the top. "You probably burned your fucking fingers. Go run them under some cold water." Eddie opened the popcorn and poured it into a large bowl as Richie did what he was told.

"I'm fine, Eddie, it's just popcorn dude." He shrugged.

"It's hot fucking oil, let me see your hand." Eddie turned off the tap and grabbed Richie’s hand, inspecting the tips. “Is it throbbing?”

Richie chuckled. “A little. Kiss it better?”

Eddie blinked, his friend’s larger, pale hands near his face, his eyes not leaving Richie’s. He pressed his lips quickly to Richie’s middle finger, then thumb, and in an instant, pulled back.

“There, all better.” Eddie said and Richie nodded, lips pressed together tightly. “Let’s go watch the movie I came here for.” Eddie snatched the bowl off the counter and sped to the living room.

//

Eddie curled himself into his blanket, occasionally glancing at Richie who was a foot over from him. The blanket Rich offered wasn’t being used to warm him up. Eddie was warm enough already, but he felt safe under it, as if he wasn’t actually there with Richie. As if didn’t just do a terribly stupid thing only half-an-hour ago. It wasn’t even a big deal, he thought. They were joking around, and Eddie decided to play along for once.

“Eds?” Eddie startled and looked at his friend. He said the nickname so softly, he had barely heard the whisper coming from his friends’ lips.

_Lips..._

"Yeah what’s up.” Eddie looked away and played with a loose string on the wooly blanket.

“Um, uh, how has your mom been lately?”

“Ugh, Trashmouth.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Can you stop running your mouth for once—”

“No, I’m serious, how are you and your Ma doing.” Richie didn’t even smile. His eyes looked hard and serious, as if he were staring straight through Eddie.

“Um, you know.”

“I don’t really.” Richie sighs. “She doesn’t let you do shit.”

“Um, she’s very controlling but… it’s because she cares about me.” Eddie said stiffly, blushing for the millionth time today.

"I care about you.” Richie blurted. “Dude.” He added weakly. “And I don’t treat you like that.”

“You’re not my mother.” Eddie ignored his rapid heartbeat and rubbed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. “You don’t understand what she went through.”

“What? Uh, I mean, What did she go through?” Richie played with the string on his burgundy hoodie.

“Why are you asking me this now?”

Richie shrugged. “M’curious.”

“Whatever.”

There was a beat of silence.

Eddie sighed. “My dad fucking died. He was really sick with some fucking cancer, then I got a flu or some shit and she’s been an annoying bitch ever since. The end. Can we please, in complete silence, continue watching the movie now?” He threw his arms out from under the blanket, burning up more than he ever had.

“Sorry.” Richie whispered. _Whispered_. “I knew he wasn’t… around but you never said anything. Despite all the things you complain about, I never thought this would be at the very bottom of your list of worries. I guess.”

Eddie had never, in his whole life, seen Richard Tozier not crack a joke for this long. He had also never seen the usually comical boy this uncomfortable, and it was tearing Eddie apart on the inside. He knew what Rich was thinking, and what he knew Eddie would ask next.

"What’s up with you? What’s up with your parents?”

“They kind of ignore me.” Richie scratched his head. “I mean, they don’t completely… they just find me annoying. So.”

Eddie hummed. He had assumed, but never heard Richie explain it out-loud before. “I get it.”

“Okay.”

Eddie looked over at Richie. He looked so vulnerable, the weakest he had ever seen since that horrifying summer of ’89. His deep brown eyes were glued on the screen, but they were glossed over, and a bit watery. Richie’s hair was wind-blown, he hadn’t brushed it after his bike ride. There was a mole on his neck, Eddie spotted as he remembered, right under his shaggy hair. Eddie had shrieked to Richie to get checked for cancer, but of course, he never did.

Eddie’s chest suddenly felt incredibly tight.

His body was still warm from the end of his toes all the way up the tips of his ears. His breath caught in his throat. For once in his life, Eddie had no idea what to say to his best friend.

_Fuck._ Eddie thought. _I’m fucked_.

“Are you okay?” Richie was suddenly sat up and alert. “Eds, you sound like you’re choking.” He laughed dryly, then Eddie tried to speak. He gasped for a breath instead. Richie’s eyes grew twice their normal size.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the taller teen shuffled over to his friends’ on the couch to soothingly rub his back. “It’s alright, Eddie, Edward. Hey, maybe your mom was right, popcorn can kill you. Could you imagine dying from choking to death on a kernel after all that bullshit Bill made us go through? Don’t die on me, Eds, I need you buddy.”

“I’m… okay…” Eddie said in between breaths. “Just felt…”

“Overwhelmed?”

“Yeah.” Eddie felt tears running down his cheeks. Blinking them away in surprise, he realized he had been crying.

Richie tossed the blanket up to fit under with the smaller, then wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m here for you, dude, go ahead and cry.” He heard Richie’s smile as he said this.

“I’m not crying, dumbass. Maybe you should get your eyes checked. Get some new glasses, those are outdated as hell.” Eddie sniffled and begrudgingly placed his head on Richie’s chest.

“That’s my Edward.” Eddie felt Richie’s lips graze the top of his head lightly, but there was no sound.

_Someday_, Eddie thought, _we_ _might be able to talk about everything._

**Author's Note:**

> i am ok
> 
> [part 4](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20863043)


End file.
